


Never About Money or Greed

by aeskis



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Slavery, White Collar Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeskis/pseuds/aeskis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another AU in which slavery exists and a white collar is worn by a prisoner who is not a danger to others, has committed relatively light non-violent crimes, and consequently been released into the custody of a handler in the employment of the FBI.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers, please let me know what you think of this idea and the story so far. I know this installment is really short, but it's more a teaser of things to come.
> 
> Comments keep the muses happy! :)

Summary:

Neal Caffrey walked into Vincent Adler’s office a cocky young man sure of his own good looks and attractions with no need for romantic attachments. After meeting Kate Moreau, Adler’s breathtakingly beautiful personal slave, he would not walk out the same man.

In order to divert Adler’s unwelcome attentions from Kate and keep her safe, Neal submits to what Adler wants, which include employing his world-class forging ability, skill in thievery, and keen mind to commit white collar crimes.

When Adler hides Kate as punishment for not finishing a certain job, Neal looks for her, is caught by Special Agent Peter Burke, and sentenced to four years in prison. Adler takes Kate away to a place unknown. Four months before his release, Neal gets a letter from Kate that she is in danger. He escapes and is caught, again, by Peter at Kate’s last known location.

Neal persuades Peter to take him into personal custody for the next four years and he will help the FBI solve white collar crimes (Sound familiar? Somewhat? :p). Neal’s life improves immeasurably … until he charms even Peter and El to a degree he did not anticipate.

Mozzie and the usual cast features! Kramer will show up too, which is never good.

\---

The reason Neal did not immediately notice Kate when he entered the room was that her startling dark blue eyes were lowered toward the lushly carpeted floor of the office. He saw a girl with a lovely figure standing subserviently behind Vincent Adler’s desk, and then trained his attention to the man himself. The self-made billionaire leaned back casually against his plush padded leather chair, probably costing in the thousands of dollars, Neal noted. Adler looked with shrewd eyes at his prospective employee over steepled fingers.

“I’m not going to waste time asking you what I can do for you. Tell me what you can do for me. And convince me quickly.” Though physically Adler was clearly the smaller man in comparison, the fact seemed miniscule when set against his overwhelming aura of command and power. Even his choice of remaining seated as Neal stood as a supplicant was a calculated power play.

“I can work for you in acquisitions,” Neal stated without preamble. He knew exactly the appealingly confident image he showed, the enchanting effect his handsome face and finely cut figure, smooth manners and beguiling speech, had on people.  
Adler shrugged and gestured to his slave. “Water.” She came forward, fetched the glass from the tray and, kneeling gracefully, presented it to him. He took a sip, more for effect than the drink, and said dismissively, “My team is full.”

Neal’s amiable smile never wavered. “Cameron Singer,” he continued. “You’re about to buy his firm.”

Adler raised his brows but coolly said only, “Speculation’s been on the front of The Journal all week.”

“He’s been avoiding Hannah Fields. Next week Hannah Fields will announce her new investment branch. She’s buying out Singer.” Neal took a moment to pause, recognizing that his next words would determine the outcome of the interview. “He’s going to back out of your deal and the media will eat it up.” Never letting his gaze falter, Neal pressed harder. “Your company will appear unstable.” He allowed himself a casual lift on the corner of his mouth. “It could spook investors.”

Adler looked at Neal more carefully, his face impassive, taking in the certainty, the sincerity of the young man’s expression, at least in his words of the moment. “Kate will see you out,” Adler said after a moment.

Kate inclined her head respectfully at Adler’s words and moved to Neal’s side.

Neal only smiled at this dismissal, knowing what it meant, and what it didn’t. “If it turns out I’m right, call me,” he said, placing his card face up on the desk.

Adler busied himself with his papers and didn’t answer.

As they left the room, Neal had more leisure to study his escort’s slim profile. Very pretty, he thought, his interest perked as it always did with striking women. As she opened the door, Kate turned her face to him, and it was then that the entirety of her beauty struck him. He stared.

“I look forward to seeing you again … Nick,” she said, her hand appearing divinely slender and white against the ornate golden doorknob.

Neal blinked and managed to ask jokingly, “How do you know you will?”

A mysterious smile tugged at her full glossy mouth, and she closed the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex makes an appearance. And is Neal conning Adler, or is Adler dangling what Neal wants in order to con him? (well, duh :p)
> 
> Next chapter will have much more original stuff ... and probably SEX. Most likely. Yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update! Again, please review! I know there's a lot of show repeat in this chapter, but I'm trying to make the story as convincingly canon as possible, with important divergent ideas. Next chapter will have much more original stuff ... probably.

"So you're hired!" Mozzie enthused, a look of impish glee on his … idiosyncratic … face. "A month later … I was starting to worry. What does your job entail?"

"Know everything about everyone. Easy enough," Neal shrugged, tracing an art piece he'd seen at the Met on the table. In all honesty he too had been relieved when the call came.

He then grinned at his new friend, tilting his chair back in a precarious battle between gravity and his balance. "Shall we celebrate?" Dressed again in casual shirt and jeans, he thanked God that he could ditch the suit.

He would never, ever get used to suits.

Mozzie grinned back, already envisioning their future riches. "We could go out for the night, meet some friends of mine … no, too conspicuous at the moment. No, we should stay in. Up for a game of scrabble? Nah, a quote-off game would be better, so I'd see what you've learned. After all, 'We are all born ignorant, but one must work hard to remain stupid.'" He smiled happily to take the sting from his words.

"Benjamin Franklin." Neal returned immediately.

"I see you've been reading," Mozzie said approvingly.

Neal smiled at him, grateful for all that his friend and mentor had taught him. "A smart guy told me to," he replied.

Mozzie chuckled and began to ramble about temperate zone islands, the care that had to be taken in swindling genius billionaires ... Neal's mind wandered to the astonishing violet-blue of Kate's eyes, the sweep of silky hair against her neck. But she was Adler's slave. That would complicate things considerably. But he didn't doubt his uncanny ability to overcome challenges.

Mozzie continued to talk, but he was secretly troubled by the dreamy expression softening the artistic lines of Neal's face.

Acquiring access to Kate was more difficult than he had thought. She always accompanied Adler, and when he moved, so did she. His interest in her only grew stronger at the prospect of a prolonged wait for fulfillment. However, today she was nowhere to be seen.

Adler tapped his fingers on the desk. "You've found the culprit who's been rooting into my affairs."

"She talked her way in," Neal explained, standing with his hands respectfully clasped in front of him but wearing a satisfied smile. "She seems mostly interested in your South American acquisitions."

"And you got her to come here in person." The chair moved in a half-circle.

Neal tipped his head forward to emphasize his resourcefulness. "I had the foundation feed her a story that you were impressed with her research. She thinks she's here for a job interview."

Sucking in a thoughtful breath, the businessman leaned back, his brilliant mind clearly at work deciding what to do, how to deal with this problem. His smile was cunning. "Bring her in."

Neal obediently went to open the door, and a gorgeous golden-skinned young woman entered the room. Her brazen, confident good looks did not stir him as did Kate's entrancing classic beauty. "Miss Hunter," he greeted.

Without sparing him a glance, Alex flashed her potential employer (so far as she knew) a brilliant smile. "Alex Hunter. It's a pleasure—"

"Have a seat," Adler interjected coldly, his face giving nothing away.

She immediately quieted, her demeanor showing signs of uncertainty for the first time as her smile faltered.

"Miss Hunter," Adler said brusquely, "your passion for antiquities is unusual for such a young woman."

"Every object has a story to tell," Alex said, regaining some of her earlier self-assurance. "I find those stories fascinating," she continued, smiling nodding sincerely in a manner that would have overwhelmed a lesser man.

"That was almost convincing," Adler chuckled unpleasantly. "Who are you working for?" he demanded suddenly.

Alex recovered quickly from her surprise at the question. "I … don't work for anyone." She hesitated for just a moment. "Yet. That's why I'm here."

"Drop the act." Adler ordered, walking around the desk to loom over her chair, effectively using his short height to advantage.

Neal stepped forward to intervene, becoming uneasy with the scene unfolding before him. "Sir—"

The so-called interview was brief, disastrous, and a frightening warning for Alex from then on. Afterward, Adler returned to his chair and studied Neal carefully. "I'm pleased with your work," he said after a moment. Then, "Go tell Kate to close the file on Alex Hunter. She's organizing my papers now."

Inwardly Neal bristled at the command, but this was also a chance to see Kate in private.

Kate laughed, impressed, as Neal pressed her hand over hers and the jewelry vanished upon opening her fingers. "Tell me again why I'm letting you make my favorite necklace disappear," she said softly.

"Because," Neal responded, his eyes intent on her as though his entire world centered on her words, "you like magic."

The necklace reappeared. "May I?" he asked.

She nodded and lifted the long strands up so that he could reattach the necklace. So close, her lightly sweet perfume infused his senses. He murmured in a sotto voice, subtle but persuasive, "Come out with me on Friday."

For a wonderful moment Kate almost appeared convinced. Then she shook her head and sighed. "Mr. Adler wouldn't allow … I can't possibly disobey…"

Neal rose, visibly disappointed. Of course.

But there were always ways around rules.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well, you know how I said there would be sex in this chapter? Turns out I needed some buildup, so sorry for those readers who were anticipating--I mean expecting--some. :p
> 
> \---
> 
> Kate and Neal spend time together, as Adler apparently approves of their relationship. Mozzie definitely does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm rushing things, but I suddenly feel inspired. Before the muse abandons me, I want to write as much as possible. Hopefully soon I can go back and add to/pad the story.
> 
> Okay, I THINK there will be good stuff in the next chapter. And Peter's side of things will be formally introduced.

The job was nearing four months, and while Neal had certainly inveigled his way ever closer into Adler’s inner circle, Neal could not achieve what he wanted—access to Adler’s bank account password.

As for Kate, well, there too he was stymied. Despite his efforts, without Adler’s blessing, Kate would never consent to seeing him as someone other than her master’s employee. 

“What do you think of Kate, Nick?” Adler asked, the question seemingly idle and unconcerned. He and Neal had been discussing the information on the likelihood of a semi-rival company folding that Neal had procured over the last few weeks. 

Neal paused, taken off-guard by the unexpected non sequitar. “She’s pretty,” he answered noncommittally. “And smart,” he added, when Adler waited for more. 

Adler tapped his pen on the thick stack of papers before him which Neal had assembled. “And …?” he prompted.

Shrugging, Neal struggled to keep his face impassive. “What else should I say, sir?” Kate was Adler’s property, he reminded himself. Adler was unlikely to simply hand Kate over without a reason. Although … a tiny hope kindled and flickered in his heart. He kept his head down, pretending to examine his notes. 

“Don’t worry,” Adler smiled kindly. “Oftentimes the things we try to hide are the most obvious to the people around us.” He rounded the room and gazed out the window where ever-busy New York lived its fast paced existence, cars honking at other cars, people hurrying to their jobs, everyone and everything always moving.

“Nick, men like you and I have the responsibility to assault the commonplace every chance we get. From the clothes we wear, to the art we collect … to the women in our lives.” He looked at Neal appraisingly, and then said, “You would … like to be close to Kate? You look good together.”

“Thank you, sir,” Neal murmured, unsure of what else to say. Then his aching feelings overcame him, and he decided to take the plunge and possibly win it all. “Please allow me to date Kate, sir,” he blurted.

“Ah, now we get to the heart of things.” Adler rose and came to stand in front of Neal, forcing Neal to step back or have to look down on the shorter man. Undeterred, Adler reclaimed the lost space, and suddenly they were very close. 

“You’re the closest I have to a son,” the billionaire business-man said quietly, appearing sincere for possibly the first time since Neal had met him. Neal could almost feel Adler’s words breathe on his mouth as the man raised his head to him, straightening an imaginary wrinkle in Neal’s impeccable suit. “You may.”

Neal broke into a blinding smile of true gratitude.

\---

Adler did insist on a condition. “You and Kate can meet privately in a room in my penthouse.” When he saw that Neal was about to protest, he raised an eyebrow, and Neal swallowed his next words. “For certain reasons, I want this relationship to remain … under the radar.” 

And Neal had to agree. Owners did not simply loan their personal slaves to starting employees, however promising, without nettlesome questions coming from unwelcome quarters.

The first time he and Kate were alone, truly alone, they regarded each other in nervous silence. She smiled uncertainly, and to ease the tension he directed his attention to a Raphael painting on the wall of the tastefully (and expensively) decorated living room. 

“You like it?” she asked, following the direction of his gaze. Neal himself had turned back to her, looking at her profile gilded with gold in the light of the setting sun. 

“What?” he blinked, surprised at the interjection of words in the perfect scene that his artist self longed to draw on canvas. “Oh, yeah, no it’s, uh,” he stammered a bit, embarrassed. “It’s breathtaking.”

“It’s my favorite one,” Kate told him, a wistful note in her soft voice. 

“Raphael was a master of balance.” He warmed to the subject, always ready to discuss the beloved topic of art. “Thick brushstrokes for the landscape but the skin tones are almost—” the sunset dipping along the gentle curve of her cheek distracted him, “—translucent,” he finished with some effort. Her scarlet blouse billowed loosely about her slender frame, and Neal wanted to hold her, find the curving softness that the fabric hid.

She turned to him, smiling questioningly. With a hand that trembled only a little, he raised his hand to her face. “May I …?” he asked. 

Kate nodded. 

Neal lowered his head and pressed a chaste kiss on her mouth, the gold hoop earrings she wore brushing against his fingers. In awe at the intensity of his feelings, he withdrew and could not help smiling at her speechless surprise that he had done so. “I’d like some dinner. Care to join me?” 

\---

A month later …

“They care about me, okay?” Neal replied, a bit more defensively than confidence demanded. “She cares about me.” He looked away.

Pretending to fiddle with the chopsticks and Chinese takeout, Mozzie did not bother to hide his apprehension. “Don’t kid yourself. Kate doesn’t even know your real name. None of them do.” 

“I’m in love with her,” Neal finally admitted to his friend, who looked terribly sad and tired. 

Hearing the finality in Neal’s voice, Mozzie changed the subject. “I hear the suit’s been asking about you.” He pushed the food around in the carton some more. 

The suit who had been investigating the fake bonds. Neal remembered him very well. No doubt after receiving the sucker, Special Agent Peter Burke remembered him too, probably with less fondness. “I’d never met a fed before,” he defended himself with a light tone of amusement.

“He wasn’t a nanny goat in a petting zoo,” Mozzie complained, obviously annoyed at the shameless audacity of his young friend. “Within minutes he could have set up a five block perimeter.” He sighed and stopped pretending to eat. “Look, it’s time to finish the job, and move on.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh! I get a hat!”
> 
> Kate, smiling, joked, “There. Now you’re presentable.” Her appraising glance took him in.
> 
> He grinned and looked down at himself. “You like that?” 
> 
> At the time, he didn’t realize that he would never be so carefree, so hopelessly in love, again in his life as in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a scene from the episode, but I did come up with quite a bit of my own stuff! Exciting!
> 
> And now we start getting into darker territory. 
> 
> Please review and let me know what you think! But! please read the story before commenting that it's not worth reading. XD

A few days later …

Making love to Kate was … a revelation. In an impetuous, petulant fit he had had slept with Alex, but however exciting, in the end it was just sex between two people wanting to use each other.

Then, early that evening as Neal held her closely in the aftermath, absently stroking the violet band around her neck, Kate began to cry. Alarmed that he had somehow hurt her, he hurriedly asked what was wrong. “It’s … it’s my master,” she wept.

Helpless anger swept through him, and he stopped his caresses on her neck. “What’s wrong?”

“You … you know the color of my collar.”

Of course he did. The shade between purple and white meant that, while Adler occasionally used Kate for his sexual pleasure, her true value lay in working for him as any other employee, running errands and doing secretarial jobs. He hated that she was so objectified, and in fact that despised the entire system of slavery—so independent and free to do whatever he wished himself, he could not imagine being so confined without going insane.

“He’s been … strange lately. Humiliating … me,” Kate whispered, tears dripping onto his wrist. “Sometimes violent, even.”

Neal sat up and clenched his fists on the blankets, furious. How could anyone bear to hurt Kate, as delicate and gentle as she was? What could he—“Run away with me,” he said suddenly. It would mean the end of everything he had worked for the last few months--his and Mozzie’s scheme to get rich quick—Adler would doubtless chase after them for the rest of their lives using his limitless resources—the police would never let them rest—if they were caught, the penalties would be dire for both of them—but what else—

Kate turned over and leaned into his shoulder, hiccupping, looking up at him in alarm. “We couldn’t possibly do that! We can’t run forever, and Master would … he would …” her face went white at the thought. “He can be cruel,” she finished softly.

Neal thought quickly. “I could … I could buy you,” he suggested desperately, although they both knew her price was far beyond his means. In addition … one of Adler’s business partners had shown disturbing interest in Kate, and Adler had rebuffed even him. But, if he was successful in what Mozzie and he had originally planned, he could have it all—money beyond his wildest dreams, and Kate, all of it. Unfortunately, although he retained Adler’s high opinion, Neal couldn’t ever be quite certain where he stood with the wily billionaire, and time was running out without guarantee of a winning outcome.

“I’ll do something,” Neal promised. “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.”

She nodded, eyes huge and wet.

 

 

A few days later …

Kate laughed merrily that morning, and Neal, hoping that her improved mood meant an improved situation, laughed with her. She stretched like a satisfied cat as he lay above her, breathing hard. “I want more …”

He smiled down at her. “You’re insatiable,” he chuckled, burying his face in the side of her neck.

“… pizza,” she continued, making movements to indicate that she was getting up.

“What?” Neal groaned in a muffled voice, pretending to be hurt at this blow to his manhood.

“We still have a margarita left over from last night,” she pointed out as she rose from the bed, pulling the sheet with her.

“Hey—who says you get the sheet?” he protested as he was left sprawled on the bed completely nude.

“I get it,” she giggled.

He rose as well and his eyes swept over her glowing complexion and the exaggerated hint of curves beneath the flowing fabric. “Wow,” he commented in honest appreciation.

“Nick—the neighbors are watching,” she warned lightly.

Neal turned in a full-frontal posture and waved carelessly. “Oh … hi neighbors. Shall I give them a show?” And he did exactly that until Kate dropped a hat on his head. “Oh! I get a hat!”

Kate, smiling, joked, “There. Now you’re presentable.” Her appraising glance took him in.

He grinned and looked down at himself. “You like that?”

At the time, he didn’t realize that he would never be so carefree, so hopelessly in love, again in his life as in that moment.

 

 

The nightmare that would haunt him for years to come began late that evening. He and Kate lay in bed together. Of course the sex was wonderful, but Neal was content just to be close to her. He slowly woke, slowly becoming conscious that someone else was in the room. He jolted awake, heart thudding, the blanket sliding down to his waist.

Adler sat comfortably in a chair flanked by two menacing bodyguards, simply … looking at the occupants of the bed. “What the hell—?” Neal burst out, the vulnerability in his unclothed state unmistakable.

The man shrugged, raising a glass of wine in salute. “Well, you didn’t expect to get Kate all to yourself, did you?”

Neal stared at him, loathing the man in a way he knew was apparent, and very unwise, considering the situation. Beside him, Kate stirred but did not wake. “What do you want?” he spat.

Adler smiled the oily snake smile Neal had seen him use on so many others when he knew he had the upper hand. “I expect a return on my investment. I have spent so much time on you, Neal Caffrey.”

Neal started violently at the sound of his name coming from Adler’s lips.

“And I was, I believe, very generous in allowing you to indulge in your pretty romance with my slave. But if you wish to continue …” Adler left the sentence unfinished, but his intent was plain. “I should enjoy myself as well.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Neal hissed. “I’m not your slave!”

Kate roused. “Neal—what’s wrong?” she asked sleepily, at first not seeing Adler as the moon was streaming in only dimly into the room. She gasped in terror when her gaze fell on him and the two men looming over them.

“If you insist. And you are correct. You’re not. But Miss Moreau … she’s another matter.”

At a signal from Adler, the huge bodyguards moved forward and closed their giant hands onto Kate’s arms, preparing to pull her forcibly from the bed. She screamed piteously and Neal’s efforts to free her did nothing against the men’s unshakable strength. Seeing that he was only hurting her further, without thinking Neal leapt from the bed, naked, and raised his hands in surrender, eyes flickering in concern from her to Adler in a murderous rage. 

“Fine! Tell me what you want me to do. Just … don’t hurt her.”

Adler sighed in boredom. “I told you already. Or at least, you should know, bright boy that you are.”

Throughout it all, Adler looked on this most private of activities between Neal and Kate as a very interesting performance. The young man did his best to shield his love from the indignity of exposure, but in fact, Neal didn’t realize which of them Adler was watching.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. NONCON SEX HAPPENS. This was an intense scene for me to write, and I'm kind of freaked out. 
> 
> Thank you so much to those who reviewed, and please leave a comment to let me know how I did.

From the instant Nick Halden entered his office Vincent Adler knew that he had come across something special. The young man spoke with diffidence, but still his white-hot intelligence and intense charisma shone through the politeness. And then of course, he was so very beautiful. Those characteristics, combined with vigorous youth, left an impression stronger than the jaded and cynical Adler had felt for a long, long time. 

Immediately after Kate and his visitor had left, Adler switched on his computer to view the cameras in the hallway. He observed with interest as Nick’s countenance lit up brightly upon his first full viewing of Adler’s lovely slave. Ah, a romantic. That would certainly make things easier. 

He picked up the phone, dialed, and spoke into the line, “Find out everything about Nick Halden and report back to me in three days.” And for just a minute he wondered if Nick was only what he said he was, and then dismissed the thought as sentimental idiocy. Everyone who came to Adler had an agenda.

And in three day he had his answer. Neal Caffrey, early twenties, newly arrived to New York. Paired up with a street con artist. Recently cashed in $5,000 in fake bonds, bond which he, presumably, had forged. An impressive resume. Adler smiled wryly. Rather than anger, the information gave him a thrill. He was matching wits with a worthy opponent who for all his brilliance was still inexperienced, and therefore easy to manipulate. Two tigers in a cage circling each other warily, one clever and older, the other full of youth and potential—the deciding factor in their imminent combat was a pretty bird on a swing between them, a little creature that the latter was not willing to make a victim.

But Adler had no qualms about such considerations.

Tonight he was going to win a key battle. As the saying went, it remained to be seen about the war, but the mysteries in life kept it interesting. 

It had been only minutes since he had been forced to drink the sedating stimulant. Neal moaned and bucked his hips as Adler trailed a curious hand down the hot skin of his smoothly muscled chest and belly, then without breaking contact, circled back to his dark rose nipples. But even drugged, Adler was taking no chances with Neal and motioned for the bodyguard who was not gripping Neal’s wrists to hold onto an ankle.

The usually bright piercing eyes were soft and dreamy, limbs loose and pliant to Adler’s every desire. For the next hour or so Adler was content merely to explore, taking in the graceful lines of Neal’s lean body. He was truly a work of art, and Adler prided himself as a connoisseur on the subject. He did enjoy women, but found their softness irritating. Neal, however … knowing that the boy lay helpless beneath him despite his edged sharpness, there was something … extremely arousing about that fact. Neal’s lack of participation for the moment only added to the pleasure of domination. 

Adler had thought carefully about where to stage the scene, and had decided on the living room, next to the fireplace. He had been right in his decision. The flickering flames transmuted the unblemished pale skin to gleaming gold. Neal’s breathing stuttered and grew erratic, eyes fluttering, hips moving restlessly, as Adler took him in hand and stroked with the ease of long experience. 

In the minute before inevitable ejaculation, Adler crawled up Neal’s limp body and bestowed a possessive kiss on his unresisting mouth. The boy regained some of his normal faculties when Adler spread his thighs and prepared him with lubricant, and he struggled. His feeble efforts were useless against the trained muscle of the bodyguards. 

When Adler thrust in the first time, Neal uttered a scream muffled by the drug’s debilitating effects. He continued to cry out through the ordeal, back arching in terrible pain. Adler had indeed made some mild attempts to ease his way—after all, he needed Neal able to work for him the next day—but Adler found he craved the agonized sounds Neal made, the tension of his virgin body as it tried to fight an alien invasion. He’d seen how gentle Neal was with Kate, the worship visible in how he kissed her, and was eager to leave a … different, more permanent imprint. With this is mind he bit down hard on the juncture of Neal’s neck, making sure to leave an obvious mark as Neal pushed weakly against him, groaning.

Neal woke naked with the taste of vomit in his mouth. Dizzy, mind clouded, at first he couldn’t remember who or where he was. Across the room straightening his tie, Adler laughed quietly at his confusion and tossed Neal his abandoned pants.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TONS OF THINGS HAVE HAPPENED. Like, Seasons 1-4.
> 
> A brief scene following the last update, and then the story jumps to the Season 5 premiere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> snippets of stuff I need to actually write.

Neal woke naked with the taste of vomit in his mouth. Dizzy, mind clouded, at first he couldn’t remember who or where he was. Across the room straightening his tie, Adler laughed quietly at his confusion and tossed Neal his abandoned pants.

/////

It had been three days and Neal had not returned from his rendezvous with Kate. “Neal! Where have you …?” The angry words died as Neal stumbled into the room, and Mozzie ran to help his friend before he collapsed.

“Moz? I—uh—Moz—can’t—” Neal mumbled blankly. Unable to continue for the bile rising in his throat, he managed to lurch to the sink and began to heave wretchedly. After he finished, Mozzie assisted him to the floor, wiped his mouth with a towel, and took his first good look at Neal. Even in the moderate lighting Neal’s face was ashen and his eyes were hugely dilated, expression heartbreakingly bewildered, breath coming in pants.

“What happened to you?” Mozzie wanted to shriek, but Neal was clearly in no state to tell him. Mozzie peered closer, his attention caught by the line of bruises on his friend’s neck and continuing downward past his haphazardly buttoned shirt top. 

“Adler ... he knows ... knows everything,” Neal babbled, hands shaking as he reached out to grab Mozzie’s shoulders in warning and missed completely. “You gotta--gotta get out here--”

A deep chill settled in the little man’s body. “Okay, okay. Come on, we’ll catch the next plane out of the country as soon as you can walk, alright? Everything’s going to be fine,” Mozzie assured his friend as calmly as he could in the circumstances.

Neal’s normally bright blue eyes were hazy with fevered delirium. “What? No, I can’t. I can’t. Kate--”

Mozzie almost screamed with frustration. The girl again. “What about Kate?” he asked gently, fetching a cup of water and holding it to Neal’s mouth.

Gulping down the water, Neal nevertheless was shaking so hard he spilled more than he drank. “He’ll--hurt her. Have to ... keep her sa--afe.” He gripped Mozzie’s arm. “No hospital,” he whispered, and passed out on the floor against the kitchen cabinets.

Oh God. The long-con had turned into a horrible nightmare, Mozzie thought miserably. Now what? He had to breathe, he told himself. First, take care of his friend. As he haltingly maneuvered Neal’s taller frame into the living room and and onto the couch, Mozzie could not help but notice again the dark fingerprints on Neal’s neck and chest, and didn’t doubt that he’d find further damage if he checked. Fury swelled in his breast. Adler couldn’t have possibly ...? No, the bastard would. And if Kate was involved, Neal would let him.

 

/////

 

“She’s the one Adler told to research you at the beginning. And she’s been doing everything to help him since.”

“But … she has to, she’s his slave …” Neal started to sway, and had to grip on the sofa back for support. 

Mozzie looked away before taking a deep breath to finish. “He promised her her freedom for yours. Kate was the bait to lure you in. There’s no question about what she really wanted.” The little man wrung his hands, recognizing the growing signs of panic that extreme stress elicited from his best friend. Mozzie could not bear to see Neal when he said the final words and turned to study the lawn outside the window. “Kate’s been on Adler’s side the whole time. I’m so sorry, Neal. I really am.” 

Neal could only stare at him blankly, face paper-white and lips moving in a silent litany of nonsense. Then he silently crumpled to the floor, senseless.

After a few moments of nothing, Mozzie turned back. “Neal? Neal!” Mozzie rushed over but could not get a response. Even Neal’s breath had grown faint. 

Upon first hearing his raised voice, Peter and El ran down the stairs to the living room. El could not help a small shriek when she saw Neal lolling limply in Mozzie’s arms, eyes closed, complexion ghostly pale. Peter quickly went over to check Neal’s pulse, and El gathered herself enough to catch up her phone in shaking hands and dial 911. 

 

\-----

And now, somehow, we’ve come to Season 5. Pretend that Season 1-4 was written into this story, and that something big precipitated this conversation. It’s not just Peter protecting his reputation. Neal, in trying to get Peter out of a tough spot, has compromised his integrity. But Peter doesn’t know that, and Neal is too proud to tell him. 

 

/////

Neal tossed a grin at Peter as the older man stood in the doorway of the bedroom he and El and designated for Neal, but which Neal had made his own through decoration and arrangement and simply living there. “Come in, Peter,” he said lightly, returning to the painting stand. 

Peter’s heart clenched at Neal’s greeting, but he knew what he had to do. Neal had to be protected from himself.

“As you know, I’m about to be promoted to the head of the White Collar division.”

Neal nodded, and sensing the seriousness of the mood, laid the brush down and turned his full attention to Peter.

“I can’t be known to own a convicted felon.” Peter ran a hand over his unshaven jaw, rumpled appearance a testament to the sleepless nights he’d spent consulting with his wife on the matter. “I’ve let my emotions cloud my judgment, and lost perspective on the fact that you’re a slave with criminal tendencies.”

Neal looked at him silently, bright blue eyes catching light from the closely lamp, paint-stained hands still in his lap. His usually brilliant smile was faint and bitter.

“I’ve failed to properly monitor your actions. Therefore, El and I have decided to lend-lease you to a new handler, until such a time as you can evince proof of rehabilitation.”

“Guilty until proven innocent,” Neal murmured, changing his startled movement at Peter’s words to a careless shrug. 

“Justice always prevails,” Peter reminded him. He breathed out and said as he produced a small black box, “It’s for your own good.”

Neal’s voice was admirably steady as he stood and asked, “Do I want to know what this is?”

“It’s a new anklet. I thought it was time for a change.” Peter extended the box. 

Neal opened the lid. “Looks just the same on the outside. There must be a metaphor somewhere,” he said as, back to Peter, he unlocked the anklet and then apparently put on the new one.

“Neal!” Peter said sharply. “Believe me, your new handler won’t appreciate remarks like that. El and I have been very lenient with you, even with you being what you are.” 

“A slave with criminal tendencies,” Neal repeated softly, handing the box back to Peter.

“The transfer will take place tomorrow morning,” Peter told him, gripping the box tightly in his hands as if to hold on to his resolve. With a last look at Neal, at his heedlessly disheveled appearance, dark curls falling on his forehead, he headed toward the door. 

Neal’s quiet words followed him. “Goodbye, Peter.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, back in time, way before Season 5. In this Peter, El, and Neal confront an issue that's been hovering for awhile.
> 
> The Burkes and Neal are going to enter in on a new phase in their relationship, involving dubcon/noncon. Physically the sex is loving and gentle, but psychologically it’s not what Neal wants.

//////

 

“Hon, we need to talk.” El fidgeted on the park bench. 

Peter made an unhappy face and, reaching over, squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry for missing dinner last night. I’ll make it to you, I promise.”

“No, it’s, um--” she took a deep breath. “Neal and I kissed.”

....

“You’re just in time, Peter,” Neal smiled, turning from the deliciously smelling pan on the stove, licking thick red sauce off a long spoon. “I really think you and El will--Peter?” he asked, smile disappearing as he realized that Peter was in a less than congenial mood.

In fact, Peter grew even angrier that simply seeing Neal, the culprit of the entire affair about to wreck his marriage, had touched off another coiled spring he hadn’t even been aware was hidden away deep inside. The former con man looked at him, eyebrows rising in wary surprise, and took step back, unconsciously nearer the kitchen table. 

Ever the consummate performer, he dared to act as if he had no idea why Peter was angry. The rage became too much. Ordinarily Peter was not a violent man, but now he wanted to tear the usual confident smile from Neal’s face, force him down, finally make him submit and admit that he was wrong. 

Almost unaware of what he was doing, Peter moved forward, planting a large commanding hand on the younger man’s chest and pushing him back onto the kitchen table, salt and sugar shakers, decorative utensils already on the surface scattering everywhere. The long spoon fell to the floor, splattering its crimson contents.

Bowled over, Neal kept still. “Peter?” he inquired in a neutral tone, carefully removing nervousness from the single-word question.

“You kissed El,” Peter hissed. This close, he could see the light flecks in the startled blue of Neal’s eyes, a forgotten sauce stain on the corner of Neal’s mouth, parted in surprise. And he could the other man’s obvious guilt in the way Neal tensed and looked way, unconsciously licking away the sauce.

“I trusted you alone in the house with my wife, and then you have the gall to seduce her--just couldn’t help yourself with a beautiful woman, could you? It’s in your nature, you cunning son of a--!”

At that moment El entered the kitchen, breathless and flushed from her run. “Peter! I told you to slow down--what the hell are you doing! Peter Burke, let go of Neal, right now!”

Gritting his teeth, Peter slowly released his fingers from where they’d balled in Neal’s shirt. “I’ve treated you as though you were part of my family,” he said tightly. “Obviously, I’ve allowed you excessive liberties which went to your head.”

Neal slowly straightened, holding his hands placatingly in front of him. “Peter, let me explain. It was mistake. It won’t happen again.” His gaze darted to El, pleading with her to agree with him.

Undeterred by the barely leashed fury in Peter, El shouldered her way between them before adamantly poking her husband’s chest. “No, I’ll explain, and Peter, hon, you’re going to listen.” 

Not accepted any refusals, El ushered them both into the living room and physically sat them down. “As I was saying before you ran off, I kissed Neal. Do you hear me?” There. She had said it. “But I love you, Peter. That absolutely has not changed.”

Peter uttered a disbelieving laugh. “But you’re attracted to Neal. This is unbelievable. We should never have gotten him, El. I should have known I’d regret it.” 

“I don’t regret it. And I made the first move.”

“Why?” Peter demanded. “What happened?”

El made a helpless gesture. “We were having fun washing Satchmo, laughing and horsing around, and then ... I leaned over.”

He was trying to salvage some degree of his tattered trust in his beloved wife. “El, hon, Neal’s a con man. He made you think you wanted to do it.”

El was having none of it, and frowned at him ferociously. “I’d appreciate you giving me some agency in making my own decisions.”

For the entirety of the discussion, Neal had sat silently, hands clasped together, looking at the floor as his handler and his handler’s wife decided what to do with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEN:
> 
> Unsurprisingly, I’m going to jump in time. A LOT. In the next installation of Never About Money or Greed, I feel the inspired need to write on the latest episode of White Collar, Live Feed, which was AWESOME. Peter and Neal have become increasingly estranged due to the trust issues engendered during Season 5, and feeling the strain on her husband (her first priority despite her fondness for Neal), El is trying to keep a distance as well.
> 
> After being passed to David Siegal, who of course was murdered, Neal is now somewhere in between a general ward of the state and also under Peter’s especial but now looser claim. In keeping with his teetering, sometimes hands-off, hands-on policy, Peter, sick of the tempestuous relationship with Neal, on one hand declares that Neal can do as he likes in his personal life, but will not relinquish control completely. 
> 
> Neal falls head over heels for Rebecca, the lovely and seemingly innocent book scholar. I take the revelation of Live Feed somewhat further, and have her not only keep tabs on him, but STALK him. I mean, personally. As if Live Feed wasn’t creepy enough in that respect. I’ll go more in detail later.
> 
> There’s going to be a M/F scene coming up, with completely uninformed and fantasy female domineering sex. Just so readers know. Poor Neal. Everyone wants him.
> 
> You may have noticed that morality is very gray in this universe concerning slavery. Ahem. As far as the system is concerned, it’s not that slaves are inferior in any way, but because of their own actions deserve their status. Neal, for example, in keeping with the show to an extent, has a sentence to serve out, and then will be free again. But while he is a slave, he is under the authority of his handler.
> 
> *I read an AMAZING WC WIP fic called It Is What It Is. I think that’s what the story is called. OMG. Wow. Go read it right now. It’s on ao3 too, and covers the theme of slavery in great detail and sensitivity. Gosh, I wish I’d written it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: so things are going to head toward F/M (Rachel/Neal) noncon territory. Not QUITE yet, but it’s getting there.
> 
> SPOILER ALERT: If you haven’t watched Taking Stock, there’s a big spoiler in this scene as to what happens with Rebecca.
> 
> I really will write non-sexual scenes, you know, in which Neal and Peter solve cases, and they’re all buddy-buddy, and domestic moments with Peter and El, and quirky fun with Mozzie. 
> 
> I’ll also get back to the whole “collar slavery” thing. 
> 
> But for now, readers, you’re in for a noncon F/M sex scene. TURN AWAY if this is not your thing.

Downing Neal was shockingly easy. He really needed to take some self-defense classes, Rachel mused as he seized up in her arms from the drug injection, and in moments sagged back against her. She lowered her hand from his mouth and braced herself on the wall, glancing around for some-last minute inspiration as to the next step. Rachel knew perfectly well what she was going to do to Neal, but improvising always helped her creativity.

Rebecca shrugged. She’d make things up as they came. 

She half-carried Neal’s unresisting body to his bedroom and dragged him on top of the bedcovers. His loft wasn’t the safest venue, not by a long shot, but the irony had tickled her, and she’d barricaded the entrance door so she’d have plenty of time to escape if someone like that annoying little man, Mozzie, came in. But listening to Neal on the phone, apparently his friend was going to spend the next several hours cooing over that female agent’s baby, Theo.

Besides him, there really wasn’t much chance of an importune arrival. Peter Burke and Neal were not exactly on good terms; she’d picked up on the tension between them. It was highly unlikely he’d drop by for a social visit.

She cocked her head as she looked down at Neal, lying so helpless in her grasp. She could do whatever she wanted to him. The realization was incredibly intoxicating, unbearably exciting. 

Time to get things started. 

Rachel began with the zip ties, binding Neal’s wrists and ankles to the bedposts. She preferred the look of actual handcuffs on him, but knowing his dexterous magic with locks, she wasn’t about to risk him getting loose. 

Prison had not been enjoyable; too boring, too full of idiots. Rachel wasn’t like them; she hadn’t been caught because of stupidity. Well, if one termed love a stupid indulgence, she supposed she was guilty. Inside, she’d immediately missed freedom’s unmonitored movements, but the long tedious hours of incarceration had certainly allowed for her to brood over what sort of revenge she’d take on Neal and his loved ones.

Plenty of time to really think things over. Still, in an unusual turn of events, Rachel kept getting mentally stuck on certain interestingly ... graphic scenes, to the extent that she still wasn’t sure what “afterward” entailed. 

When the object of her obsessions, sitting across her in that room permitting no privacy, looked at her with such disgust in his cool blue eyes, Rachel determined then that she would kill him.

After she got what she wanted, for the last time.

Neal had always filled their time with romantic intimacy, only gently (if firmly) making love to her, unaware that she hadn’t been entirely fulfilled. Oh, she’d thrilled in the events that took place in Neal’s extravagantly large bed, very much so, but they weren’t enough for her exacting preferences. Not even close.

Rachel prided herself on her connoisseur’s fine taste, and she honestly had to admit that Neal was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, more than equaling any partner, male or female, who she’d enjoyed over the years. She hadn’t feigned her pleased surprise at first meeting him; pictures hadn’t done him justice. Rachel ran a exploratory hand over his handsome face, then his still clothed form, lean chest and belly, casually skimming his crotch and unconsciously spread thighs. 

She watched as Neal’s eyes fluttered open, slowly filling with undisguised panic as they focused on her looming over him. Instinctively he struggled, the zipties leaving thin white marks that would probably become bruises. She smiled with pleasure at the thought.

He tried to speak past the makeshift gag, a tie, but could only manage unintelligible sounds as he futilely tried to scoot away from her. However, it was clear the he wasn’t yet aware of the full extent of his unfortunate situation. She’d have to change that.

“Sshhh,” she whispered, tracing his lips through the undoubtedly expensive fabric. “No talking.” Rachel leaned over the bed, smiling at him even she undid each button of his dress shirt with her teeth, licking wetly as she went.

“You see, I’ve heard, Mr. Caffrey, that you’re an awfully good liar.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After carrying out several dozen art crimes for Adler over the past few years, Neal, who has been desperately searching for Kate (hidden from him by Adler as punishment after Neal refuses to kill someone), is caught by Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the wonderful dialogue is taken from the show itself. I just added character thoughts.

“FBI! Hands on your head!” As the law enforcement closed in, the girlfriend, Kate Moreau, quickly backed up against the door, away from Neal’s embrace.

As he entered, Peter noted the strangeness of her actions. For a woman supposedly in love, her first instinct--to shy away--was unsettling and left a sad twist in his gut for the duped young man who had given up his freedom to see her again. The feeling was soon eclipsed, however, by elation. 

He’d caught his quarry. The cheeky con who had literally suckered him that day, turning a bond case, albeit an exceptionally good one, into a personal crusade, was his. He had not forgotten a single detail of the conversation, though at the time it had seemed a rather forgettable meeting with an overly eager, puppyish young man. Startlingly good-looking and and unusually charming, true, but Peter, newly married to El, hadn’t particularly cared past noticing these undeniable facts.

After he’d connected the young man to James Bonds, however ... well, he did like smart.

“Neal Caffrey.” Peter savored his next words. He’d been practicing them for the last three years every time the FBI caught wind of a new Caffrey caper--all the time. “You’re under arrest.”

The other man nodded, placing his hands behind his head as instructed. “I know,” he said quietly. Then he lowered his arms and calmly stretched out a hand to Peter as though the police weren’t all readying themselves to shoot.

“Thank you,” Neal said with a smile. Not the glossy photoshoot grins he regularly shot at the surveillance cameras in the past, all toothpaste commercial model, but a smile of genuine gratitude. 

Peter tilted his head, uncertain of how to take this.

“I never would have found her without you,” Neal clarified.

Peter smiled and shook his hand. He hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect upon Neal’s arrest, but this wasn’t it. The young man’s easy grace and good humor in defeat was exceptional, and he would remember it during the next few years as the handcrafted birthday and anniversary cards came, and when he was bored with the latest banal case laid on his desk. “It was my pleasure,” he said sincerely. 

“So you guys were all out there in that municipal van out front,” Neal commented wryly as Jones handcuffed him. The show of force was clearly excessive; Peter was aware Neal never carried weapons, but the Bureau had wanted to be safe. “That’s gotta be uncomfortable.”

Jones clapped him on the shoulder, returning, “Doesn’t smell too good either.”

Peter caught Neal looking back, a long look, at Kate as the young man was led away. Even as he took out the sucker and, grinning, popped it into his mouth, Peter thought again what a waste Neal had made of his incredible talents. Had he been officially a slave he would not have been charged for the crimes he had committed for Adler. But, he had been a free man, no matter that through Kate Adler in effect controlled him. Neal Caffrey had made his choices, and in Peter’s personal opinion, he had made the wrong ones for entirely the wrong reasons. 

His symbol of victory, the sucker, was saccharine and stale, but that was only to be expected.

Leaving with a wistful, longing glance back at Kate, Neal didn’t know it then, but it was the last time he would see her without the barrier of prison glass, touch her face and bury his hands in her hair, smell her faint perfume as he kissed her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which sex without actual consent happens (Peter/Neal)-- the usual state of affairs in this story. Gosh, I really need to stop. I'm not quite comfortable writing sex scenes--no, really!--so if you like the story--not what's happening--please leave a nice review. :)
> 
> Because ... Neal's situation is very sad. 
> 
> This is back when Neal/Sara was a still a possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I watched the series finale.
> 
> I have no words.
> 
> Except ...  
> ....  
> .....
> 
> WTF. Doesn't Neal CARE?!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fresh from victory in their latest case, breathless from the breezy New York air, Neal is grinning at him as they stand in next to the car. Peter looks at him, at the boyishly triumphant smile of a kid who’s just won the top science fair prize. 

Suddenly, Peter can see Neal and El kissing, as clearly as though they were committing the act directly in front of him: El’s mouth would be soft and full, caressing, as it was when she and Peter kissed, Neal’s lips would be parted, at first in surprise, then his hand would come up and thread through El’s dark hair—

“Peter?” Neal questioned, and Peter started, only then realizing that he’d been simply staring at Neal for the past few minutes without visible expression. 

“Yeah?” Peter replied, quickly.

“I was asking how you wanted to celebrate.”

Peter gazed at him, at Neal’s somewhat puzzled smile, and he wanted. The jolt of recognition in his gut is so strong he has to clench his hands into fists so that he wouldn’t act on the urge.

Because it wasn’t illegal, to have sex with a slave. Purple-crimson collars meant that the slave was maintained primarily for sex, and white, that the slave was on government contract. Technically, a slave with Neal’s extraordinary skill set would be employed entirely for work-related purposes, but sexual relations between he and his owner—Peter—wasn’t out of the question. Legally.

El had been brave enough to tell him openly, hadn’t kept the matter a secret. He should clear out the air with her first.

“Let’s go home,” Peter said, and coughed to hide the hoarseness in his voice.

Still a little off-balanced from Peter’s odd responses, Neal nevertheless nodded and got into the car. 

The ride was quiet. Neal glanced at him every now and again, but did not interrupt the silence except for drumming on the dashboard in an effort to let out the adrenaline. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter caught Neal’s elegant, clever hands tapping on the hard surface, and wondered what they would feel like on him.

When they arrived, once freed of the car’s confines, Neal literally danced to the door, calling out, “El! I called it, the lawyer was the one siphoning off his clients; I am, as they say, the ambassador of awesome—”

“She’s inside, she can’t hear you,” Peter informed him, amused despite his mood. Actually, she wasn’t, as it turned out. Just then, Peter received a text from his wife that she’d be late getting home from work, and that they were stuck eating last night’s leftovers.

“Oh,” Neal said, frowning when he heard the news. “I can put something together, because, really, warmed leftovers from yesterday—”

“Spoiled.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Cowboy up.” 

“You’ll appreciate me more when—ummmph—” Neal’s next words were stifled as Peter crowded into his personal space and leaned down to make up the two inches difference in height, resolved yet unsure of how to proceed. When Neal uncertainly made to step back against the wall, Peter thought, Dammit, and pressed his lips against Neal’s fast-talking mouth. 

The younger man immediately tensed, and his hands came up to create some space between him and Peter. His eyes darted to the side, toward the kitchen. “Peter … Peter … dinner, weren’t we talking about dinner … I’ll stop complaining, I will. I’ll just warm—”

“Dinner later,” Peter told him. “Bedroom. Now.”

Neal took a deep breath. “Peter, please. Can we talk about this first?”

“Neal.” Peter was taking off his coat and hanging it on the nail. He came back and started shrugging Neal out of his suit. “We have talked about this. Months ago.”

“You and El talked about it,” Neal said, jaw clenching. 

Peter sighed. “Neal, it’s been eight years since you’ve been with Kate. Are you planning on staying celibate for the rest of your life?”

Peter’s attention was taken by the movement of Neal’s throat as he swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

“You’re a healthy, highly attractive young man. Women throw themselves at you. And, if you happen to particularly like someone, El and I wouldn’t be completely averse to letting him or her borrow you occasionally.”

“I don’t want to be borrowed!” Neal almost shouted. 

Peter blinked, and then said harshly, “I think we’re being more than generous.” He softened his tone. “What about Sara? You two seem to be getting along nicely. You’d still be working under me, of course, but—”

Neal raised his head. “Sara?” he said quietly.

“She certainly appears interested,” Peter said, one hand gripping Neal’s arm, the other pulling on the stair rail. Still stunned, Neal followed. “And we’ll have to make sure that you’re clean before you come back to us,” Peter reminded.

The mere act of undressing Neal … was an intensely rewarding experience. In his college years, Peter had messed around a bit with other guys, more to experiment than anything else. His interest remained firmly with girls. Neal … Neal was different. Neal was beautiful, compared to anyone.

And he was still skittish, shivering when Peter rubbed comforting circles on his back as he peeled off Neal’s outer coat and loosened his tie.

“I don’t know why you’re so nervous, Neal, you hit on everything that moves,” Peter pointed out.

“Not for--not seriously. Bad habit. But,” Neal’s customary polished manners seemed to desert him, and he stammered, “I’m not, uh, gay. That is, not exclusively. Gay.” 

“It’s called bisexuality,” Peter said dryly. He reached down a questing hand and cupped Neal through his dress pants, tried to recall how this went, but instinct took over and he went about doing what he himself liked. Neal jumped 

“Oh. Oh. Peter, can we, no, let me—” he reached for Peter, but Peter gently knocked his hand away. “You first.” He took a step closer, so that they were flush except for the room Peter needed to navigate.

Neal’s breathing began to come faster as he grew hard, his fingers flailing until they came to tighten on Peter’s arms. 

“See? You’re doing good,” Peter murmured. He tried kissing again, and this time Neal’s quiet gasps allowed him access. Curling his other hand at the back of Neal’s neck, Peter didn’t have to think as he ravished the younger man’s mouth. 

Neal licked his lips after Peter broke off the kiss to breathe and swayed, knees giving out as Peter squeezed with the hand between his legs.

“It’s been a long time for you,” Peter mused, guiding them to the bed. “How is this?” 

Looking increasingly dazed, eyes closed, Neal nodded. “Good. It’s good,” he mumbled, rubbing his face into the pillow beneath him and moaning.


End file.
